A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to Theory! I wrote this novel in one month and I am now editing as I upload. Thank you very very much for taking the time to read it! If you could take a few seconds to leave a review with anything I could do to improve or what you liked, I'll send you a multitude of (slightly invisible) cookies!


One.

That Guy

"Oh French toast," I swore in irritation. "Where is my wallet? It's not allowed to be stolen!" As I went to check my other pocket, I accidentally bumped a cup sitting on Starbucks' counter, causing it to spurt a strange pink substance everywhere. "Shoot! Why are all the counters at this height? Is it supposed to look sophisticated? Pink goo on the floor, way to be sophisticated," I mumbled to myself like a crazy bag lady, searching for something I could use to wipe the mess up. Yeah, that's really attractive in a girl- anger management problems and disorganization.

Someone coughed behind me. Scrunching up my face, I turned around ready to teach him a thing or two about laughing at someone having a bad day– but of course it was That Guy.

He had one hand over his mouth and was struggling not to completely bust out laughing at me. His bangs trembled with the effort– so blonde they were practically white. "Excuse me, I don't mean to laugh at you."

"Um, no, it's- uh, you know, you're That Guy so I don't mind."

That Guy's eyes went wide when he was confused, and for a second I got distracted trying to figure out if they were blue or green. "What?"

Hello, brain to ear? Did I really just say that?

Yep. 'Fraid so, brain, loud and clear.

"Hello? What's the matter?"

"Oh, you mean aside from this giant puddle and my wallet getting stolen?" Ah yes, sarcasm! Another lovable trait for the list.

He smiled. "Aside from that."

I sighed and returned my attention to the puddle– it was safer than actually responding since that likely would have turned into an idiotic giggle. I'd been attempting to mop up the bizarre drink with a stack of flyers advertising gift cards, but that just resulted in a bunch of disgusting-looking flyers and a larger grimy spot on the tile. I searched vainly for a Caution! Some Idiot Spilled Their Coffee Again! sign or an employee I could assail. There was no sign of either and the line was becoming dangerously backed up, so I was forced to turn to my final resource.

I wiped my hands off a little on my coat, stuck out the right, and said cheerfully, "Hello there! I'm Holly."

That Guy played along, although he was eyeing the large pink stain at the same time. "Nice to meet you, Holly. I'm Luther."

I smiled in as non-threatening a way as possible and said, "Please lend me three bucks!"

Luther's eyebrows rose in surprise (or possibly amusement) as he took his hand back hastily. "Three bucks?"

"Yes please. Some fruit loop stole my wallet and I think I'm going to have to pay for my own drink and this one." I gestured at the floor. "So I should be able to cover it with three more dollars."

"I'm more questioning why you're asking me for three dollars than why you're asking me for three dollars," he explained, putting his hands in his pockets and regarding me with skepticism.

"Oh. Well, for starters I see you every day," I pointed out. "We're always in the same line, at the same time, same store…" I trailed off as I realized how stalkerish I sounded. Maybe I could manage to pull it off as observant? "Anyway, I've got to come here, right?"

"Actually, there's another Starbucks just down the street."

"Goshdarn modern convenience," I muttered to myself. "Really, though, I promise I'll pay you back. You can even have my phone number if you want."

He really had to struggle against a smile this time. "Wow. That's…tempting."

I glared at him. "Seriously, it's only three bucks. I'll be here tomorrow at nine, just like always."

"And you'll spill something on the floor, just like always?" He asked innocently, but I could forgive him because he reached into his pocket, pulled out a thick roll of cash, and wiggled a five out of the cash clip it was all wadded up in.

"That's a lot of money," I said in awe. "I mean thanks." All of the cash was super crisp and new-looking, almost suspiciously so. I resisted the urge hold my new bill up to the light and check to make sure it was real.

He smiled, tucking it securely back inside his jacket, and reached gingerly around me to pick up his drink. Did he think I was going to lunge and knock it over or something? "No problem. Nice to meet you, Holly."

"You too, Luther." As he pushed the door open with a jingle, I shouted sincerely, "Really! I'll pay you back!"

He raised an arm briefly in recognition before disappearing into the throng of Bostonians crowding the sidewalks.